It seemed as if the whole world had suddenly decided to see the rest of the world.
Bombay was crowded and we barely succeeded in getting rooms at the Taj Mahal.

There were swarms of Americans outward bound and inward bound.
You couldn't go down a street without encountering scores of new sun hats and red-bound "Murrays." The taxicabs were full of eager faces peering out inquiringly at the monuments and points of interest that flashed past.
The train to Agra was crowded and we succeeded in getting reservations only by the skin of our teeth.

Also the hotels at Agra were jammed and many people were being turned away, while the procession of carriages jogging out toward the Taj Mahal was like an endless chain.

Upon all sides as you paused in spellbound rapture before the most beautiful building in the world, you heard the voice of the tourist explaining the beauties of the structure.
[Drawing: _During the Tourist Rush_] The Taj Mahal is justly called the most beautiful edifice in the world.
It is so exquisite in its architecture and its ornamentation that one may believe the story that it was designed by a poet and constructed by a jeweler.

It was built by Shah Jehan as a memorial to his wife and for centuries it has stood as a token of his great love for her.
When I visited it this year I was surprised to find that Lord Curzon had placed within the great marble dome a hanging lamp as a memorial to his own wife.